Taboo
by Kamikakushi
Summary: [The Bible - Part IV] Being a child of incest is the greatest Sin, and the greatest tragedy. And the daughter of Setsuna and Sara will meet hardships and anguish because of an unforgiving world, and her Death will change her Life forever. [Complete]
1. Part I

**TABOO **

Part I

By Jia Zhang

* * *

Ever since I was a little kid, I've had this dream, where I stood on the edge of the world…Just me, and me alone. And the wind burned against my skin, and I felt a suffocation in my lungs, as if I was drowning in water. I remember looking down into a void of emptiness—it was like looking into the dark eyes of some great beast…Absolutely pitch black eyes. And I felt the gravity of that dark void drawing me closer, and closer, encircling me with its twisted embrace. I'd take a step off that edge of the knife, and I'd fall as if I were swimming through blood—thick and poison to the senses. And then, only then, after what seemed like an eternity of falling into that dark abyss…I'd land…

To this day, I still don't understand what that dream means. Even if I may not understand it, that dream still invades my sleep.

When I was little, I used be terrified of that dream, because I was never sure if I'd land safely or not. But I do, always…as I'd learn once I grew older. But the sheer peculiarity of that dream has always disturbed me slightly. Unlike any of my other dreams, this one was always repetitive; it was the same thing, exactly the same thing, every time I'd dream…like some twisted déjà vu—a broken record player singing the same mournful tune over and over again.

But, with me, I guess that dream seems somehow…coinciding, I guess, with my life. After all, I've always been a very bizarre child myself—my hair, unlike my parents, was this gold colour that was almost white under the sun. My skin was pale to the point if you looked hard enough you'd see my veins. But, what everyone finds to be my most unusual feature are my eyes…My pretty, bizarre eyes.

Under the sun, they are a colour of bright gold, like the eyes of a cat…and then at night, they're like amber stones, burning as if they were the fire that heated the sun.

I never knew what they meant either, my bizarre little eyes, and I never really cared…After all, they have been always useful to me. They let me see and notice things that normal people don't.

For as long as I could remember, I could see things. I was never sure what they were…ghosts, apparitions, angels, demons? I never really paid much attention to it, though. When I was little, I thought that everyone saw these things, and it even got to the point where my teacher thought I had an imaginary friend, and urged my parents to take me to see a shrink.

Of course, my father completely ignored that idea. He always says that a person knows that's good for him or her, so I grew up seeing things…never sure as to what they are.

Well, I guess my bizarre eyes may be a product of my bizarre family. My parents moved around a lot when I was little—we've lived in Tokyo, Osaka…then we moved to America, then London, and to our final destination, our current residence, Italy. We live above a restaurant, where dad and mom work, in a little flat that looks across into the Mediterranean sea. It's a beautiful view, and next to the apartment we lived in when we were in California, in America, this is by far my favourite.

My family has never had much—dad was a high school drop out, and so was mom, and they've been together since then. But dad was always able to find work wherever he lived, and he always made a good enough pay for us to get by without making the family poor. Middle, middle class, I'd guess. He always said he was lucky to find a good job—like he had some sort of Angel on his side. I'd always tell him he's crazy.

Dad and mom both work for a woman named Constance Italiano, a dark haired lady, who's got a lot of curves. She always has me call her Auntie Connie, and loves to hug me to the point of suffocation—but she's nice, so it doesn't really matter. Dad does the books for Aunt Connie, and mom is one of the waitresses in her restaurant. It's a good life.

I love my parents. Dad is always really lax with rules, but he always offers the best advice. He always told me, since I was a kid, to follow my own path, and not to let anyone tell me what to do or think, not even him. Dad can be really cocky at times, but he's a good man, and he loves mom to death. Mom always says, though, that I get my stubbornness and bad attitude from him. With mom…she's the prettiest woman I know. Her hair is always shiny and bright, and she always has a smile on her face. Mom's really a determine person, but she's also really wise. She's a great cook too. But she's way stricter than dad—she always yells at him for letting me off on too many things. But they love each other, more than anything in the world…and their love, it's never changed.

My parents aren't really religious—even though we live so close to a church, and Aunt Connie goes every Sunday. But with Sunday, my parents always spend that time together. They'd take walks, or have dinner together by the seaside. My parents always believed that they made their own life, and didn't need God to govern over them.

But I always knew, ever since I was little, that I did not live in a normal family, no matter how much it seemed like I did, or that I, myself, was a normal person. And I didn't really understand why I felt this till I was 13 years old. That was when I discovered why my eyes are so special…so bizarrely pretty.

Why my eyes were eyes of gold…

It was for a school project I was doing, when I still lived in London, that I came upon this knowledge. We'd already lived in London for three years now, and on that particular day, I was in a local library doing a project on genetics. Originally, the assignment I had was to study the affect different genetic traits from parents have on their children. I'd read up on everything I could possibly ever read on the subject, but just an hour or two before I went home, I'd found a book that was terribly useful for my project.

It was also the book that changed my life forever.

Because I'd always known my parents lied to me about some things…

There was a subject in the book on children of incest, between cousins, siblings, and parents and their children, throughout history, and it's genetic effects. The statistics had shown that it was highly dangerous for blood-relations to produce offspring, and the high amount of complications, different genetic syndromes, that could affect the child. It was a high percentage that most children of incest would be born with physical or mental problems.

But…

There was still a percentage, a very small percentage, that survived without complications or problems. Those children, on that slime chance out of a million, could live and grow up normally, like any other child. However, all children of incest, born healthy, had the same trait—golden eyes.

Like mine.

I was a very smart kid, and I say this without being prideful. But I was, and sometimes I wish I weren't…because then I wouldn't have realized the horrible truth as to what I was.

I was a child of incest…

A child of Sin…

When the idea first ignited in my head, I thought it to be absolutely crazy—deranged…that I was something like _this_ was absolutely ridicules…But once I went home that night, all the puzzle pieces from my childhood began to fall into place.

Like the fact that my parents looked a lot a like…how my father always had to dye his hair black…

Like the fact that I never knew my grandparents…and how my mother used to say that my grandmother would hate to see us…

Like the fact that my parents shared the same last name…when I, and only I, knew for a fact that they were not married…

Although I was born and lived in Japan for three years, I don't understand a word of it…But one word that stuck to me, after the incident in the library, was what mom once called dad… "Onii-chan"…

"Older Brother…"

For a long time, I was horribly sick to my stomach. I'd vomit uncontrollably some nights, to the point where my dad had to take me to the hospital, only to be released later with a diagnosis of "upset stomach". I felt sick, just absolutely sick, for such a long time. I felt so sick and disgusted with myself that I'd used to cut my skin, to the point where blood would spill out in a breath. Some nights, I'd cry and cry, till all the oceans were filled, and I had no tears left to bleed my pain. My parents never knew what was wrong with me at that time, and it made me sick to just look at them…

I began to despise them, hate them for what they did…

Hate them for what they made me…

A child of Sin…

I was never really religious myself, but growing up you learn a thing or two, about Hell, and Heaven, and the Sins, and those that commit them. I'd always known, especially from myths, the result of those born of Sin.

I was going to Hell.

It was maddening, through those years, after learning what I was. I became a problem child, breaking rules, smoking, doing drugs…everything to eliminate the pain and dizziness and fear that I felt if _anyone_ ever found out _what_ _I was_—an absolutely disgusting thing. But I'd never have sex, no…after that day in the library, I never, ever thought about that. I did almost everything, just to numb that sickening feeling I felt every morning when I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror. I had broken so many of them, because this reason. It had gotten to the point where I wanted to kill myself, but I'd always remember that I'd be committing yet another Sin, when I already had one so huge.

I couldn't do that.

So I droned on living…my parents never had a clue that I found out about their secret. Every day I'd drift through life, trying to forget my own skin. They'd try to ask me what was wrong, and if they could help. But I'd yell, and scream, and shout, and cry…saying how I hated them…but never telling them what I had come to realize as the truth.

By the time I was fifteen, I was standing on the edge of a very sharp knife, and about to fall into the darkest void I have ever known…most dangerous than those drugs could ever be…

I had slit my wrists, letting the blood soak into the tiles…in that moment, I had felt so relieved, so free and liberated from all the suffering and pain I had endured. As I died, I died with hatred for my parents…hatred for my mother, for my father, for the world…and most of all…

I despised myself…

I despised everything I ever was.

And I died in that horrible way.

* * *

to be continued

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Taboo_ is by far my favourite out of _The Bible_ series, because I relate to the main character very much. Originally, this was supposed to be just a one shot, but I ended up deciding to divide them into two parts, because the time Setsuna and Sara's daughter spends in death is the most important, and really changes not only her perspective of the world, but also of her parents and of herself.

* * *

© March 2005, by Jia Zhang. All right reserved.

* * *


	2. Part II

**TABOO**

Part II

By Jia Zhang

* * *

How I died…the dying part is forever a mystery to me. I remember very little from that instant when the pressure of this truth…of what I was, became too much for my soul, and heart and mind, to take that I ended my life in a breath. My soul drifted away like the carefree wings of a bird in a moment's notice. I had lasted for so long, against the heaviness of this burden that my parents had kept from me for all these years, and in an instant I ended it all—a simple cookie cutter, it's edge so thing and small, but sharp none the less. It drew a line across my wrist, and a pattern of red danced against the white of my arm.

And twin red ribbons were wrapped so perfectly around my wrists.

I started to feel delirious, lost on some euphoric drug that was protecting me from all the pain I had endured. The last image I remember most clearly was the white tiles of the bathroom floor slowly turning into a hideous colour of red. My eyes began to feel heavy, and I felt like I was falling into some amnesiac sleep, all of me just drifting away from this physical word. I remember looking out the open window to the stars…and the darkness of this universe, it pulled me with it's gravity, and I was beckoned into the shadows.

I drifted endlessly within a void of nothingness. What was happening to the world of the living, where my parents were, I did not know, nor did I care, as I floated within that sea of infamy. It was so comforting, that void. I had felt so much for so long…so much pain, so much anguish, so much heartache.

I left the world cursing it.

I left the world despising my parents.

I left the world hating my own skin.

And at that moment, I loved nothing more than this bittersweet nothingness.

I fell asleep in a place that I could barely remember. My mind became adrift in all of my memories in that bleak moment of darkness—I watched those memories, running like an endless film of black and white, grainy, the sound poor, but carrying that dark message which haunts me to this day.

The book.

The words.

The knowledge.

_I was a child of incest._

I fell into that bliss of a dream, where nothing that had existed in my life was real. And I drifted asleep, feeling nothing…that moment savd what little sanity and hope I had left, and wrapped around me ribbons of false promises, and it was the carriage that took me to a world, a place, a person…that would change my life for all time.

When I came to, my head hurt and my wrists burned with pain. My eyes felt as if I were a newborn, just opening them. And my eyes, my golden sinful eyes, opened to a world that was completely unfamiliar to me. When I came to, my body lied upon the dirty ground—I pushed myself up, ignoring the spasms of pain that ran through my arms.

When I got up and surveyed my surroundings, the world that I was met with was not at all what I was expecting. I was in a forest—if you call it a forest. The trees were twisted as if they were made from some metamorphic nightmares, and vines hung amidst them forebodingly, seemingly reaching out and trying to grab you, and trip you. And the sky was of a bitterness that was not black or white…but somewhere in between. The ground beneath me was hard and cold, completely made of rock or bone. And as I stared forward into the horizon, I saw nothing but an endlessness.

I looked to my slashed hands, the wrists tied with a red ribbon. What do I do now, I had asked myself. Was I dead…? Was this some perverse dream from the depths of my mind? Where was I? So with no other choice, I began to wander in my forbidden sanctuary of death.

So I wandered, through this wasteland. I felt as if I was trapped in some twisted tale by the Brothers Grimm. Except, there was no prince to rescue the lost princess, and she had chosen to touch that pointed spindle and fall back into her lost dream. I stumbled across a place that was like an improper mix between a swamp and a forest. This place smelled of death.

And then…I saw something incredible…

Wandering not far from me were people…People…just like me. Except they wore robes of white, and as I looked to myself…I wore robes of blood red.

If I was dead…then I was forsaken from wherever those people were going. They were ghosts, spirits, trapped in between this place of Limbo—as was my soul. So I ignored them, and continued this meaningless wandering. My bare feet burned against the ground, and the wind hissed against me, as if I were intruding in a place that I should never have found. But I had found it—this meaningless desert—for my soul had not died in peace.

I don't know how long I was trapped in this forgotten Limbo of souls. Minutes…hours…days…months…years? Time, I learned, in this place it meant nothing—merely a whisper of something so foolish and forgotten…such a human concept. But this journey had taken me far from the place where I had first awoken into this bizarre world. And as I shifted past the nightmare trees and vines that held my mind, I came upon water—and a tree.

It was such a bizarre tree. It was twisted in such a peculiar shape—it's branches stretched out like arms, and it's roots twisted into the water as if it were afraid it'd be ripped out by some other power. And I gazed curiously at this twisted tree, the nightmarish fantasy of storytellers. It fascinated me.

Suddenly, I heard the rustling of something amidst the darkness of that foreboding forest. I twisted around as this creature of nightmares emerged from behind me. Its body seemed to be made from vines, and it smelled like rot. And upon it's face was a monotonous mask, and slowly it came towards me—I felt what it wanted: my blood, my body, my soul, my flesh…

I was going die. This time not by my will. And on instinct, on pure instinct, I screamed.

In a flash of blinding light, the twisted creature shattered into nothingness, and as I slowly opened my eyes, I saw something that will forever stay in my memory—I saw pure perfection.

He was tall, his hair the colour of the pitch black night, and his wings…they were the colour of coal, and outstretched so beautiful. But his eyes…his eyes were what captured me—deep pools that told a story as dark as my own. Slowly, he glided down from the sky to stand before me in all his glory. And before me stood this dark winged Angel.

He gazed at me curiously, and I gazed back. That is when it clicked in my head that what my obscured eyes were seeing was completely ludicrous. This was some delirious nightmare, and I was Alice, trapped in a dark little Wonderland, with Mad Hatters, Cards that painted the roses red with blood, with a Queen of Hearts that had no heart at all.

As I stared upon this dark winged Angel, I spoke, completely unaware of myself, "I must be losing my mind."

Suddenly, his lips cracked into a smile, and he laughed softly—it sounded like a sad, sad lover's song.

"I assure you," he spoke, his voice rich and smooth like velvet, "you are not losing your mind. What is a child like you doing in this part of Hades?"

I blinked at him stupidly, first feeling insulted at being called a child, then the words _Hades_ resonated inside my head like some dreadful morning bell.

"Did you say…Hades?"

That was it; it was confirmed now…I had lost my mind.

I must have fainted, for when I came to once more, I was not at that lake by that bizarre and twisted tree. I was in a room, quite spacious and comfortable, upon a large white bed. I was certainly not home, in my room—my bed was never this large. However, as I gazed, I saw once again that sky, that in between sky of neither black nor white. I was still in Limbo.

No…Hades…

I really was dead.

However, my common sense refused to give in, apparently channeling my own stubbornness. As I touched a hand to my head, I mumbled once again, "I've lost it. I really have lost my mind…Where am I?"

"You're in Uriel-sama's home!"

I turned at the sound of the sudden voice, and the door the room opened. In step a girl, very young, around my age, her hair curly and dark, and her eyes were pitch black. That's when I noticed the resemblance…she looked so utterly like my mother. I suddenly felt a crushing pain inside me—my mother, my father…my life. Everything was robbed from me all because of _what I was_…

_A child of incest._

I felt sick again.

I turned back to the dark haired girl who so resembled my mother. She gave me a perky little smile, as if she had no cares in the world at all. "Uriel-sama…?" I muttered unconsciously in confusion and question.

"Yes! It was Uriel-sama that brought onee-chan here. You fainted when you first saw Uriel-sama, and he couldn't just leave you there, so he brought you to our home!"

"Uriel…" I mumbled his name upon my lips, suddenly remembering the dark winged Angel that had save me. I felt wistful…as if I had met this man before. It was bizarre, that his name seemed so familiar, like an old pair of shoes that fit just right.

"And what's your name, onee-chan?"

"Me…My name…" I suddenly stopped. What was my name? I remember my parents, and their faces…and their names were…Mudou…Mudou Setsuna and Mudou Sara… "I don't…remember clearly…but I guess you could call me Mudou. I don't remember my first name, though…"

I looked down at the bed sheets. It was queer—how could I possibly not remember my own name? I had started to forget things that were once so familiar in my physical life—Auntie Connie, who baked the most delicious cookies, the view from my window out into the ocean, the image of my mother and father walking along the water, smiling and laughing…the way my life used to be. I began to forget it all. But, maybe that was what happened to people after they die, they begin to forget their physical life…maybe to lessen the pain of life…

The dark haired girl stared at me curiously as I stared down at the sheets, lost in my own thoughts—attempting to recall anything from my life…but there was one thing that stood out most in my mind…why I died, and what I was. Those two things refused to leave me to the comfort of my mind. They continued to plague me, even as I passed into the other world.

"So I guess I'll call you Mudou-chan!"

"What?" I looked up, snapping back into reality.

The girl smiled and laughed. She looked so much like my beautiful mother…I wanted to cry…

"So is that okay then, can I call you Mudou-chan?"

I blinked, rather dumbfounded by her optimism. "Sure…I guess…"

"Okay then!" She beamed happily and walked over to my bedside. "My name is Doll!"

She had such a peculiar name that I was almost taken back. "Your name is Doll?"

"Uh-huh! Uriel-sama made me, and he gave me my name, so I'm Doll-chan!" She smiled so brightly…so much like my mother…that I just couldn't help but smile back at this girl.

"It's a cute name…"

"Oh…you're awake."

I turned at the sound of the velvety voice; I turned to see a figure standing at the door. He was clad in a deep black, and his ebony hair flowed down his shoulders…and his eyes, they drew me to him. If it weren't for the fact that I was in such a peculiar situation, I would have blushed.

"You must be…Uriel…"

"Uriel-sama!" Doll ran over to the Angel and embraced him tightly. "She just woke up!"

Uriel gave a small smile. "I'm glad to see you're awake. It was very bizarre to see a child wandering around Ygdrassil. You were asking to be attacked…"

"I didn't know…I just…arrived here…" I looked down. Bitter memories began to swim back to me of why I was here, what I was…my parents, my home…everything I had knew. But that darkness…that bitter knowledge of what I was clinged to the crevices of my mind. I was a child of incest. A child of Sin, doomed for as long as my soul exists.

I couldn't control the dams anymore. I began to cry.

"No, no! What's wrong, Mudou-chan? Why are you crying?"

I was crying, so I didn't notice Uriel's eyes narrow. "Mudou…"

"Am I dead? Am I dead? And if I were, why am I here? This isn't Hell…this isn't supposed to be where I belonged." I felt the dams break, and the flood came. I cried, and I cried, no longer able to contain this suffering any longer. "Why aren't I in Hell?"

"Because Hell doesn't exist anymore…"

Suddenly, I stopped crying and looked up at Uriel. His face was quite serious as he gazed down at me. As I stared at his eyes, I knew that he spoke the truth. Yet still, I asked, "What do you mean…Hell doesn't exist anymore?"

"It was destroyed…Lucifer's body was what kept Hell…alive…and now that he is dead, it is nothing but barren wastelands of sand and dust, just like before Lucifer revolted against God."

I placed my head in my hands and I began to laugh. "This is ridicules! There isn't a Hell anymore? That's…that's not possible! Then what about Heaven? And the souls of the damned and sinful?"

"They wander in Limbo…as you must have seen…And Heaven still exists, the government having been changed and renewed, but it certainly is not like the paradise you mortals dream of…" Uriel spoke softly as he approached the bed, gently sitting on it. "Why would you say…that you belonged in Hell? What could a child like you possibly have done for you to think that?"

I laughed bitterly. "I am a living creation of sin." I smiled a bittersweet smile as I looked down at the bed sheets, hugging my knees to my chest. "I am a child of sin…"

Uriel looked at me sadly. "You really shouldn't have saved me," I spoke. "I should have been devoured by that…thing…"

"You said…you're name was Mudou. By any chance, are you the child of Setsuna and Sara?"

The utter shock and overwhelming surprise must have dulled whatever pain I had felt. I stopped crying suddenly and turned to stare at Uriel in dumbfounded astonishment. "How…how did you know that? Do you know my parents?"

"Yes…I do know your parents…"

"Then you must know what I am…" I gave him a bitter smile before turning my eyes away from him. "What I am…"

"Yes…" he whispered so quietly that it was as if he barely spoke the words at all.

He knew what I was…he knew who my parents are…Who was this man? This black winged Angel?

But the truth was that those thoughts were the last thing on my mind. Any frivolous and pointless questions were gone—I had no more questions that needed to be answered. In a moment of delusion and agony, where my soul began to shatter into pieces under the pressing weight of this bitter secret, I cried out for something to save me from my private damnation. I had done the unthinkable—I took my own life, expecting myself to fall into the abysmal caverns of Hell. But now…here am I, stuck in Limbo, unknowing as to what the future would bring me, awaiting once again with my cruel fate as my only comfort.

I detest this all so much.

I detest what I learned…I hate what I was…and even though my broken soul can hold no more…I felt such a bitter anger towards my parents. Yet still, I adored them, even after all the pain and anger I felt, I adore my parents.

My mother and her gentle grace and wisdom…and my father and his brashness and steady confidence…

At such a young age I had learned that the world was an absolutely cruel teacher, and everything in life was unforgiving and cold. I learned at such a young age the bitter truths of a world that had been in a deep hibernation from any true hope or salvation.

We were in an Iron Age of rusty steel and copper.

"You should rest…" spoke Uriel so very gently. "I know…you have been through much…So I want you to rest…"

I would've disagreed and argued if I were my normal self, but none of my past reflections existed in this realm of neither Heaven nor Hell. So I abided by this man's wishes. I laid down on that soft comforted bed, under the watchful eye of this dark winged Angel and this girl with such a resemblance to my mother…and for the first time in years, I fell asleep without the burden of tears, I fell asleep without the burden of the world…and for the first time in years, I finally slept a dreamless sleep.

* * *

to be continued

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, _Taboo_ is turning out to be much longer than I had anticipated. Maybe because I have so much so say about this whole thing, and I find this tale of Setsuna and Sara's child to be very interesting to explore and write. This is one of the few times where I write in first person, so it has been much more different for me, and I am enjoying this ability to express my own thoughts. I am very happy with this small group of people who have been reading _Taboo_, because it is one of my better works.

I would especially like to thank Eternal Musing for continuing to read _The Bible_. ((smiles)) So I dedicate _Taboo_ to her. (By the way, in accord with your question, I am Chinese.)

I am hoping to finish off _Taboo_ in the next chapter, but I don't know yet. "Mudou-chan's" journey in her afterlife is extremely important, especially as that she is an outsider towards her parents' relationship, and she doesn't know what Setsuna and Sara went through. Mudou-chan's struggle is not only with herself, but against the world as well. I hope everyone will continue to read _Taboo_, as well as others in the series _The Bible_. If you have any questions or opinion, feel free to contact me.

Domo.

_Jia Zhang_

* * *

© March 2004 by Jia Zhang. All rights reserved.

* * *


	3. Part III

**TABOO **

Part III

By Jia Zhang

* * *

Time…it is such a human concept.

And to be honest, time doesn't really exist. It is a state of human thought and consciousness. Time is an instance, because in this world of the dead, everything stood still. We believe in the concept of time because we try to have hope in a false future. But, the future too, is a human concept. All we have is an instant in time, and that is all. Time is the alteration of cells, or growing old, and nothing more; it is no passage. Animals do not have this concept, only humans, for all they know is existence and death. Life is an instant, in which people make it up to be more than it really is…because we are human, because we fear what might be beyond and yet we look forward to it. We hate to think of life without this concept, that there is no future, there is no past, only an instant in time where we wander and drift, seemly dreaming in a state of mind that is so drugged on some delusional idealism.

After all, as I have learned, Death offers no time. Death, unlike Life, is an instant of eternity. Nothing changes, nothing grows, nothing alters, nothing evolves. Death is on the other side of the looking glass—it is an instant, and yet it is an eternity. Life is not an eternity, it is a precognitive state of being…after all, Life ends with Death, Death ends with Life…and Death is so much more of a puzzlement than this pointless time of being.

I am contemplating too much, of these factors that no longer have anything to do with me. I am dead. Dead like the burnt ashes of wood, roasted inside the fire for much too long. Dead, like the flower the child picked for her mother. Dead, like the ant, it's pointless life squashed in an instant by someone's careless foot. This Death is as troubling as was my life.

I stared out into this fangled wasteland, bleak, with no false hope of a tomorrow that will never come. And as I stared into that monochrome sky, from the window of Uriel's home, I was oddly reminded of that childhood nightmare I often dreamed of—the falling into abyss, entrapped by some dark and poisonous rapture that was all too dangerous for anyone, pulled down by the weight of my existence, haunted by these ghosts who refuse to leave my side.

Such bitter irony it has become, my twisted childish nightmare, some premonition of my present tragic state. I have fallen—fallen deep inside the dark caverns, to a place that is the golden eyes of the dark beast of the sullen night.

I am a lover of lies. They are often so much more comforting than the bitter truths the world offers. As a child, we were all told lies and deceptions by our parents to keep us in some dream-like state, where everything was pure…where everything was what our imaginations and hopes had created, because at that time, we didn't know how painful the truth could be. The truth offered reality, which is something none of us wants to accept. This is why people lie, why we prefer lies…because they are always so much more comforting than the truth.

I constantly lie to myself. I lie and pretend that everything would get better. But here is my truth…

I was a creation of incest…a living Sin, a beggar in the dark corners of the Inferno, servant to the macabre Lord of the Flies…

When I learned this disgusting truth, all my lies and games of make-believe were shattered into pieces of coloured glass, each a reflection of the life I once had. My lies kept me together…but now, they were nothing more than the sand in the Hourglass that continues to drip with some sort of inevitable dread. With a touch of my skin, I felt constantly the desire for lies and games of pretend. I sought a fantasy that left me long ago, but in which no storybook ever contained.

I sat motionless upon the floor, against the bed in which I slept on in Uriel's home. My arms hugged tightly around my legs, the red bandages on my arms faded to a colour of pink, afraid that if I did not secure myself, I'd break into pieces. I stayed like this most of the time, if Uriel couldn't coax me into sleeping. I felt as if I were abusing his kindness, but I really didn't know what else to do. I was constantly adrift inside that dark pit within my mind, and no one could get me out.

No one.

I wanted to leave this place, this temporary abode that this dark winged Angel had offered me. I knew I was imposing when I should not have, but I was such a pathetic little lamb, and I really didn't know what else to do, and thus, I spend most of my days, or whatever time that passed in this desolate plain, gazing out at this barren womb that stood in-between Heaven and Hell…

"You should eat something."

I didn't reply.

Uriel would come ever so often to attempt to get me to eat something or sleep. I felt as if I were a child, being dotted upon. But I simply stayed my monotone state, only ever so often to comply with him.

Today, I felt like replying.

"The dead wouldn't really need to eat, would they…"

I could feel Uriel's smile, even though I did not shift my gaze from the window. "It's not as if I am flesh any longer," I continued. "There is no chance of me dying of malnutrition."

"You shouldn't take yourself for granted. Even if you are just a soul, you need something to sustain you. If you weren't so…wasted, I wouldn't be offering you food. But if you don't eat something, you'll fade away…"

"Does it matter?"

"Doesn't it matter?"

I fought a smile. We were going around in circles, a pointless argument, and I wasn't sure why he, the Guardian of Hell's Gate, would even care for a simple lamb like myself. So what if I drifted away? It did not matter, and life in all the universe would continue the same way it always has and always will. I was an insignificant factor.

I had always thought what crude creatures Humans can be—we create things of glorious beauty, and then we create weapons of devastating destruction. We wage war, yet we continue to have hope to a solution. We realize our flaws, yet we do not. We're an incomprehensible species of duality—of hypocrisy. We say one thing and mean another. We're crude and we're evil, and only when we follow guidelines and rules that can that sullen Devil within us can be vanquished.

As a child, I never did agree with such philosophies. But in school back in London, we often discussed the theories of Hobbes and Locke in heavy debate. I had always believed in Locke and his idealisms as a child, that our social influences were what created our substantial and inevitably evil actions. I believed that deep down Humans were not the animalistic creatures we pretended we weren't.

But I grew up.

And because of this growth, this evolution from my chrysalides, I have come to see humanity as over-rated—a cruel and unnecessary factor in the universe. We were a mistake, as a species, and our evolution would lead us nowhere.

We would never reach the glory of the Angels in Heaven, for we could so very easily embrace the bitter touches of malevolence.

We were God's greatest project…and His greatest mistake…

"Why are you here?" Uriel asked of me, and always asked of me whenever he saw me.

"Does it matter?"

"Doesn't it matter?" He sighed heavily as he walked to my side and sat down on the bed, whilst I remained upon the floor. "Why are you here, in this place of Death? You're still a child, still so young, and you have so much to strive and look forward to."

"You know my parents. I don't need to say any more than that."

I could feel his eyes gaze sadly at me.

I never asked Uriel how he knew my parents. I'm not sure whether it was because I didn't want to know, or that I simply wasn't curious, since the moment I stepped into this world I was born into a dull condition. But still the question rung in my head: how did Uriel, the Guardian of Hell's Gate, know who my parents were, my positively mortal parents? How…?

"It's not your fault, how your birth was…" he spoke ever so softly.

In a flash, the bottle of poisonous anger shattered, and I tasted that sinful liquid upon my lips. I stood up suddenly, my back to the window, my golden eyes communicating every single emotion I had felt up to that moment.

Anguish.

Anger.

Hatred.

Shame.

Fear.

A swirl of emotion that trapped me and bound me to my present state all because of _what I was_! I couldn't struggle against it anymore. I glared at him hatefully as his words pounded inside my own private madness and disillusion.

"_Not my fault_?" I echoed bitterly. "Of course this isn't my fault! What I am, how I was born…" I clutched my arms painfully, my nails digging into my skin and drawing half-moons of blood. "It's their fault! It's their sin! And I have to take all the damn ramifications of something they did! Don't pity me, because you can't possibly understand how I feel! If I live, I would go through my entire life with this mountain on my shoulders! You can't possibly image what it's like! And I don't even want to think what people would say if they knew what I was!" I hugged myself tightly, as the tears slowly descended from my eyes. "I…I am a creation of Sin between siblings…blood siblings…and there is nothing more _disgusting_ than what I am!"

I broke down. I shattered. I became the ashes of my former-self, burnt to nothingness by the black flames of my inner-Inferno.

Slowly, ever so gently, Uriel pulled me into his arms.

"Do you hate them…?" he asked me.

I continued to sob. "I—I don't know…I don't know…"

He held me tightly to him, and slowly, the tears became to lessen, and I hiccupped softly as Uriel held me ever so gently.

"You're right; I don't know how you feel…but do you know how your parents feel? About you, and each other?"

I didn't reply. I didn't know what to say to him. What could I say? That I know my parents adore each other? How I loved them so very much? How I know that they love me?

Even if I say those things, it wouldn't change anything. What I was would remain still, carved in some ancient stone that could not be eroded away by the tides of time. I would forever be this child of sin, a creation between blood siblings. I would carry this burden, and if I had any children so would they. I was trapped in a labyrinth that had no escape, and I wandered constantly in this dazed state.

It didn't matter.

"Does it matter?" I finally replied.

"Yes…it matters the world."

To be honest, I half expected him to continue that cycle of our blissful argument, or simply giving no reply at all. I expected us to go around in circles again, stuck in some distortion of Limbo. But finally, Uriel had given me a solid answer in which my mind finally began to turn its wheels to form curiosity and a question. A question in which I should have asked from the beginning. A question whose answer will change my life on a scale that even I could not comprehend.

"How…do you know my parents?"

And finally, I was told the story…

* * *

They have loved each other longer than I ever would have expected. They have loved each other before they even knew what the word meant. But it was a forbidden love, a twisted tale of star-crossed lovers, a tragedy that would shame _Romeo and Juliet_. It was a love that stood on the other side of Eden, bitten again and again by the Snake. I never expected this…so what could I really do but listen.

They loved each other since they were children, my mother and my father—Setsuna and Sara Mudou—brother and sister by blood. From their childhood they loved one another, and the climax of this bitter love story, all started with the history of my father.

He was the reincarnation of the Organic Angel, Alexial, one of the twins of the Highest Order. He was another incarnation of her, like so many before him, because of the punishment place upon her for her betrayal against the Father. But she too, shared in a bitter tragedy, a forbidden love…maybe that was why my father was cursed as well.

The dawning of this tale began unfolding at the turn of the 21st century, in the _Anno Domini _1999. Year of the Lord 1999. A Cherub from Heaven had come to Earth to awaken Rosiel, the twin of Alexial. Upon the beginning of these events that nearly lead to the End of the World, when my father was only sixteen years of age, around the same as I, that he confessed his love for my mother—his sister, Sara Mudou.

He had tried to squash this sinful emotion for many years, but emotions of the heart always win out, no matter what they are. They escaped from the cold clutches of their mother, who always seemed to despise my father, and created a world of their own—two sinful little lambs, but as happy as they could be. No one was ever there for either of them but each other.

And for a time, that short while, their world was perfect.

But, reality never offers a tale with happy ending.

Rosiel awakened, and sought for his sister, who dwelled in the body of my father. Rosiel himself was such a sad creature, much like myself. A bitter lamb he was, as was I. He tried to kill my mother, Sara…he succeeded, and the world shattered into pieces.

In a moment that was Eternity, Setsuna, lost in his own suffering, his own despair, at the loss of Sara, who sacrificed herself to save him, shattered all of the world as the pain in his heart sought to quench its thirst by pure vengeful destruction. But that wasn't where the story ended. Adam Kadamon, the Holy Hermit, and the First Child of God, stopped the rotation of this human concept we call time, and froze everything in this world of the living, as so that Setsuna, my father, could end Tribulation, and save the one he loved from Death.

And so, a journey was spun, on a broken spindle with thread of black, gold, and red. The image of Heaven and Hell was nothing like what my father had imagined, nothing like what I imagined, but he cared too much, and he did all he could to save the Republic of Heaven, and this cruel Earth that had always locked him in a cold prison of some distorted dementia. I secretly wonder why he chose this…why he chose to save a world that brushed him off to the deserted corners of ice and blood.

I wonder…

Perhaps…it was because, only in this place was there a Balance, that cruel, yet necessary Duality that humans were such a component of. Ah, this world was such a Scale, that if the balance would tip, in either way, we'd all come undone, for perfection does not exist, and we can always crawl out of the darkness. Duality is where humanity stood, whether it should, could, do…this moral Limbo is where we stood, for even Angels did not care for the rules created by a God that did not love.

And that was what He was.

A Father that did not love, so unlike my own, who loved more than his heart should, and because of this, he took unto himself all the pain and suffering Eternity and the Fates would offer on this golden platter of lies and deception, of truth and morality, of flesh and desire. But Sin and Rules are a misconception, an idealism no human or saint, or Angel, could ever hope to achieve, because as long as the Flesh exists, we cannot be pure.

Maybe, subconsciously, my father knew that, which is why he loved my mother anyways. Or maybe, he just didn't care at all. Love is a powerful. It makes you do stupid things, but oh it is the most wonderful of all emotions—to love, and be loved in return, no matter by whom.

My father, because of this Love, crossed into Hell and Heaven and Limbo to search for my mother, and they were always so close to finding each other. Sometimes, they were reunited, but torn apart just as quickly. Fate was such a cruel master, for when, in the End, did they finally find each other, twisted by Sandalphon, my mother shrunk into insanity, nearly losing herself and my father in the process. But he came through, like he always miraculously does, and forced this world of ours back into this Balance.

God is Dead, confused and destroyed by an emotion He could never understand. We were his creation, his masterpiece, his confusion, and ultimately his downfall.

But in the end, He wasn't the _true_ Creator, was He? For if He was created also, what is _that_? That Existence in which Life is continuously a part of? What is on the other side of Eden?

Behind the mirror, my reflection…is that the Utopia we all seek?

I don't know…Perhaps I will never know…But, maybe, it is something we all shouldn't know, what truly happens after our soul leaves this universe of Duality.

* * *

I stare at Uriel quite silently not sure as to what to say. What could I say, after he tells me this tale, more twisted and cruel than any Shakesprean play…I was out of words, my question having been given an answer that I was completely and utterly not expecting. What could I say?

"I…"

I had no right to judge them, in truth. I had no right to judge myself, and what I was because of the notions created by our society of Duality. I was constantly mocked by the truth, which was always my foe after that fateful day. This was beyond anything I had expected. I never wanted to embrace the real truth, the truth that I _had_ to accept what I was—simply a child, and it did not matter whether I was a girl, or a boy, whether I was Black, Jewish, Chinese, Puerto Rican, or mixed, for I was simply just a child.

I took too much knowledge, tried to understand and contemplate this fate I was forced to have. Like Eve, I took the Apple without knowing what it truly was, and reality brought me truth, it brought me bitter knowledge, and ultimately, it brought me my Death.

I sought too much for some kind of comfort to this knowledge, find comfort where there was none, and I did not need any. The fact remains—I am alive. I am a living, breathing human being, with thoughts of my own, and my birth, or race, or gender, or sexuality, or status did not matter the slightest. I was a living thing—I loved, I hated, I wept, I laughed, and I _felt_. That was all it needed to be said.

But I forgot that. I forgot that I simply needed to live, and not dwell on these factors that were unnecessary. It hurt. Yes, it hurt being what I was, a child that was a product of incest, and that if anyone were to find out about this tragic truth, I would be shunned, whipped to whatever corners of ice and blood…and even though that was the cruel and pungent truth, and there was nothing I could do, I had to go on. I had to, because I was a_live_.

Uriel is right about this one thing.

I am alive.

I have a life, and family and friends who love me.

I have a soul, in which will return to the true God some day.

No amount of human Duality and pretend Commandments should deter that fact, but even I, an atheist in all, was wrapped up in this faithful belief of Heaven and Hell and the Sins that Man lives and is. We live our lives the best we can, as happy as we can, for Life is never perfect, and all we can hope for is some form of happiness, for someone to love, and be loved in return. This is why Life is so precious, why animals will do anything to survive, why humans can be so bitter and cruel and selfish. We are all striving for our own happiness, for our survival, for our Life, and simply doing the best we possibly can as _humans_, so we can always uphold this Balance, this Duality, this paradoxical Existence.

"I…"

What do I say?

"I…I want to go home…" I spoke so quietly and softly.

"I know."

I was dead, that was also a fact. I had taken away my own life because of the Inferno burning inside of me—the pain and despair, more bitter and cruel and hurtful than any Sin could ever possibly be. I do not regret having died, because I was able to pass from my chrysalis state, and have the sand watched out of my eyes so I could see clearly, all the knowledge and truth available to me—to see once again with my sinful golden eyes.

"Can…I go home?"

"If you wish to return…"

"Can you…please take me home…?" I asked so quietly and timidly, like a child afraid to be punished.

Uriel smiled. "Yes…"

For the first time in years, I smiled, and I embraced him, and I was rescued from this deep Falling into darkness.

Ah…I remembered.

"Uriel, my name…My name is…"

I landed on my feet.

* * *

My mouth opened and I took in a deep breath of air. I breathed hard, as if I had just been saved from drowning in poison. Slowly and painfully, I opened my eyes, and all I saw was light. Did I die once again, saved by Uriel and reborn?

"She's coming to…" I heard a voice say.

My vision was blurry. I could barely make out anything at all. All I saw was light, blinding light, so different from the darkness of my nightmares. In those nightmares, it was always cold and hard and rather metallic, and I tasted blood in my mouth. But this…this was numbing, and warm, and had too much life for it to be the Shadows.

I felt pain in my arms.

I smiled slightly.

I was alive again.

Uriel…Uriel…Thank you so much for everything, I thought. For your patience, for your kindness, for your understanding, and for telling me what I should have heard long ago. Thank you for saving me from Drowning.

"Oh my God! Setsuna! Setsuna! She's awake! Oh my God, she's awake!"

Mommy…

"Mommy…"

"I'm right here…I'm right here, sweetie…"

I felt her hand clutch mine so tightly. It was warm, and soft, and I was suddenly overcome with a rush of nostalgia of my childhood. I remembered when I used to sit in her lap, and she'd tell me all sorts of stories of Princesses, and thieves, and pirates on grand excavations. She used to bake, and the house would smell like sweet butter and cream, and I was always overcome with a sense of warmth and comfort. Oh I was home…I was home…

"Daddy…"

"We thought we'd lost you…"

This was my father, a father who loved too much, who cared about my mother and I more than anything in the world. I remembered when I was little he'd take me sailing, and on trips to the zoo and I'd climb on his shoulders because I wasn't nearly tall enough to see past the cage at all the wild animals. I remember his silent words of wisdom, and his truths and faith in me. I remember how strong he is, and how much I love him. I was home…I was finally home…

This blinding light—

This was my Heaven.

This was my home.

No matter what I was, what I am, and what I shall grow to be…No matter what happened…This was the place I belonged.

Ah, my childhood nightmare…such it is a prophetic dream. I had danced on the blade of disillusion, lost in my own private torment and turmoil, nearly driven insane by the truth. And I fell—I fell into the darkness of the great Beast within my own heart, and I was entrapped by this state of mad lunacy. And through the darkness of the abyss I did fall, and yet—just like in my dream—I was able to land on my feet.

"Mom…Dad…I…"

* * *

_fin _

* * *

**Author's Note: **And this concludes _Taboo_, one of the most personal and difficult pieces I had to write. Although I am slightly jaded in how I ended _Taboo_, I highly enjoyed writing this piece. It really challenged my skill and craft, and my abilities as an author. I am also terribly grateful to all the people who commented on this story. ((bows)) Thank you.

A couple things I would like to clear up is concerning "Mudou-chan's" Death, for she really did spent a long time in Limbo with Uriel, the equivalent of years, but in real time, that was just the time for the medics to arrive at her home and bring her to the hospital. Also, the one who save her wasn't really Uriel, but herself. The red bandages on her arms symbolizes that there is still blood within her, thus that she is not completely dead, and when the bandages turn white (her's was turning pink), then she is dead. But when she realized she wished to return home, she still could return to her body.

Although this does conclude _Taboo_, there is an epilogue for this story, which I will first be posting on my Live Journal (which you can access by means of my "website"), then later on fanfiction (dot) net. The epilogue, which has a separate title, will explain anything that is missing in _Taboo_, and will also tell more about "Mudou-chan", Setsuna and Sara's daughter, and her life. I believe the epilogue to be even more important than the rest of _Taboo_, as that it really explains what "Mudou-chan" learned from her experience in Limbo.

Anyways, thank you everyone for reading _Taboo_. ((bows)) And I hope you will read others in my Angel Sanctuary series _The Bible_.

Domo.

_Jia Zhang_

* * *

© April, 2005 by Jia Zhang. All rights reserved.

* * *


	4. Epilogue

**Adam and Eve**

Epilogue 

By Jia Zhang

* * *

"…And that's how it ended."

Her bright golden eyes sparkled with an odd glow, which reflected the amber flames of the fire that burned magnificently inside the hearth—an odd glow with some sort of mysterious brilliance. This light, and only this light, illuminated a grand room within a house as old as time, in the heart of the old New Orleans. Outside, the stars peered out from their hazy sleep, and they began to play amidst the sky, each with its own unique shimmer of glory. And in this place, a story was finally told.

On a sofa in the grand living room, sat a girl. She looked rather complacently at the nothingness that stood before her. Her hair was as black as the night, and her eyes twinkled with youth and curiousity as she finally turned her head to face the other within the room.

The other woman had years of wisdom; she was an old lion, her golden mane still bright, yet dull with the story of the ages. Wrinkles, each with a tale of its own, covered her face. Yet, her eyes, her bright golden eyes, still shined with the youth and freedom, curiousity and love, she had so many years ago. She was tired—indeed, it had been so long—but it was time to tell the story she has always kept inside her heart.

"Is that…all true?" asked the girl.

Bright golden eyes smiled down upon her, half glowing like amber stones. "Yes. Every word…"

The girl turned away slightly, her eyes narrowing as a rather sorrowful look swept across her face. "How did you live with it? How? To know that you are a child of…incest…"

The woman smiled.

"I couldn't live with it. Not at the beginning, which is why I had killed myself. But Death for me was in itself the greatest lesson I could ever have had. I heard more from my time in Limbo, in Hades, than I ever learned in Life. After Uriel, after Limbo, after Death…everything changed. My eyes were opened for the first time in years, and I was no longer the little girl who sat in the corner and cried."

The woman sighed lightly as she turned way from the fireplace and walked towards the window that gazed out at the city. "It was…an experience that forever shaped my life, and who I became. It no longer mattered who my parents were, and what I was. I _lived_, that was more important. I created for myself the most beautiful of all things…my life."

"Did you…ever tell your husband and children?"

The woman gave a small laugh. "My husband was a kind man…slightly foolish, but an honorable and kind man. He always knew there was something important that I kept from him, but he never asked, and always smiled at me with some sort of knowing. He passed away smiling like that, telling me that after being married for 40 years, he didn't need an explanation anymore. I'll tell him sometime, though. Maybe when I see him again…

As for my children, I don't think I will ever tell them something as heartbreaking as this. They may be torn, just as I was. But you know…my eldest son, he always reminds me of my father—determined, strong, brave, stubborn as a mule, and loved too much in his heart…I don't think there is a need to tell them this…"

The girl looked down as she contemplated what she had just been told. "Why?"

"Hm…?"

"Why…did you choose to tell me this, even though you've never even told your husband and children?"

She gave a smile at the question, as she turned her head to the girl—smiling an enigmatic smile, her lips curving as if she knew the answers to the universe. "It was time," she spoke, before she turned her head back to staring out the window.

"It was time…"

The fire crackled as it burned the wood to ashes, a soft warmth floating through the air. Touches of gold, and yellow, and red and orange, encircled within the dark room, elucidated by only this light. Outside, you could heard the howl of the wild coyote, the call of the wise old owl, and the glorious song of the silver Moon, that stood in its place within the sky, gleaming in all its magnificence.

"After my time in Death, everything in my life changed. The old anger and despair in my heart dissipated, and my burnt and ashen heart began to renew itself slowly. I knew…I knew I wanted to express what I learned in my time of Death to people. I wanted to offer them hope, just like Uriel did for me. I had struggled for so long against this burden of mine, and yet, it was this burden that created who I am—who I was meant to be.

I could never tell them really what it was like to die…I couldn't expose the secrets humans are never supposed to know. I was lucky; I wasn't supposed to live. People who die…they lose their life; it was how it was supposed to be. But, because of Uriel, I realized my reason…and I was lucky enough to live once again.

Heaven…Hell, and Limbo…we humans are never meant to know what it is really like—how God is dead, and that Hell no longer exists…how all those of Man wander in Hades, till we are reborn…how Angels are not what they seem, and Devils are not what they are…How everything is not as we believe. These truths would crush them, even though no one would believe me. But this was the truth…

But I wanted to show people what I gained from Death, what I had learned—and that is why I began to write. Everything I wrote was an inspiration from that time. My Death had been my muse, and for the last 36 years, I have been writing of everything I had learned from that time.

When my parents passed away, that was when I began to write _Adam and Eve_…it was, out of all the novels I had written, the most personal of all. It was the first time I had touch on this subject—it was still a fresh wound that will never heal…but _Adam and Eve_, it helped me to understand my parents. Adam and Evelyn were a microcosm for my parents, themselves being siblings…and their tale is a microcosm for the journey my parents went through, in their time when my mother embodied the Cherub Gabriel, and my father was the Messiah. And for the first time, I understood that it was as difficult for them to be in love, as it was difficult for me to be a child of their love."

"That…was a brilliant novel…" spoke the girl shyly. "I've read all of your novels, and that…is the best of them all."

The woman smiled, laughing at the girls' comment. "Other people thought so too."

"Yeah!" she said. "It was a best seller for over 11 months. And you won so many book awards…the Pulitzer, and Nobel!"

The woman gave a small chuckle of pride.

"True. But no matter how much recognition I received for that book…it was simply the story of my parents, in which I wrote for them. That's how it is, in our world of Duality. The people cared for those characters—they were genuine, real, because they are real, yet if the people knew of _my_ parent's relationship…they would be shunned, hated…outcasts of society. They would be torn apart. I wanted to immortalize them—and I did through this story. Through this novel, no person on Earth would ever come to hate my parents for their love for one another…because they became Adam and Eve.

In a way, we are all connected. We are touched by other people's lives, even though we may not know them. Our culture of Duality will probably never change…but I, at least, wanted to tell my story, because my Life and my Death has taught me so much…"

There came a pitter-patter upon the darkened windows. Jewels of rain poured down from the sky, and it's call against the windows told that the clock had struck midnight, and that the carriage would turn back into a pumpkin. The spell was broken, the story ended, but it still existed, a tale immortalized in the mind…a tale immortalized in her last book.

The woman turned away from the window and sauntered to her work desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a large manuscript, thick, the pages white like bone. She took the manuscript and brought it over to the girl. She stood before her, a smile on her face, and handed it to her. The raven-haired girl looked at it curiously.

"_Taboo_…" she read the title on the manuscript sitting in her hands. She looked up at the woman. "What's this?"

"It's my last novel…it's my last story." She smiled as she sat down on the sofa across from the other. "I have told every story I know…this is the very last, my own story. Everything I told you is immortalized in that manuscript, every detail of my journey through Life and Death—it is, for the lack of a better word, my memoirs. I want you to have it."

The girl looked stunned at the woman. "B-but! I can't accept this! You should give it to your publisher, and have it published so everybody can know what you went through!"

"No…I want you to have it…I want you to read it, and some day share that story. This story…I have passed it onto you now, and if someday you want to show that manuscript to the world, you can…but for this time, read it…and just remember the story…"

For a moment, she turned to gaze out the window. "Hmm…the rain is getting pretty bad…You should head back before it turns into a thunderstorm. Have my driver take you home…"

The girl got up and for a moment she looked at the woman before her. She _looked_ at her, her gold ash hair, her golden eyes that glowed of amber fire, and that knowing smile which lit her face. "Ms. Mudou…I don't know what to say…I…" She paused for a moment before smiling. "Thank you. Thank you for telling me your story. And I will! I will tell it to others some day…I promise."

They exchanged a knowing smile, before the dark haired child turned and left this old house in New Orleans.

The woman sighed and closed her eyes as the fire crackled softly against the pitter-patter of the rain on the windows. Lightening crashed outside, and she hoped the child would get home dry and safe.

"Have you been there long…?"

"Not long…"

The woman opened her eyes and smiled at the figure before her—a dark winged Angel, who gazed at her kindly. "Uriel…It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yes…"

"It's good to see you again…"

She smiled once more as she reached out her hand to the Angel, and he clasped her hand tightly. "Did you hear the story?"

"I did…"

"I'm glad…"

"Why did you tell that child your story?"

"To be honest…I'm not so sure. I believed she's the right one, to carry this tale and pass it on someday. I want people to know my story, the truth…I want them to see what I see. And she was the perfect one to understand it, and I knew that without needing to know her…and besides, it was time…"

"Yes…it is time…"

The golden-eyed woman smiled as she closed her eyes, her hand never letting go of Uriel's. "I know…but, can't we stay like this for just a little while…?"

"For a little while…"

"Thank you…"

* * *

_Fin _

* * *

**Author's Note: **And this _completely_ ends _Taboo_. I promised you an epilogue, and here is an epilogue. I know the ending was a little bizarre, but I have my reasons. For explanations for this fic and this chapter, you can visit my Live Journal at w w w (dot) livejournal (dot) com / users / jia(underscore)zhang, or you can visit it through my website. And I actually have _a lot_ to explain about this fic, especially to fill in anything I took out.

I'd like to thank everyone who's read _Taboo_, and I hope you will all continue to read my series, _The Bible_. The next one I am planning to release should come out around the end of May, called _Lamentation_, and it is the story of Michael and Raphael. Check out my Live Journal for progress, and most likely it'll be first posted on my LJ, depending on the length.

Once again, thank you everyone.

_Jia Zhang_

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© April, 2005 by Jia Zhang. All rights reserved.

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